


Not only Banshees hear voices

by extraterrestrial_fox



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Dark Stiles, F/M, I DONT KNOW HOW TO TAG PLEASE HELP ME, M/M, Not finished yet, Possessed Stiles, Stiles Has Panic Attacks, stiles also has anxiety and other things
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-19
Updated: 2014-08-19
Packaged: 2018-02-13 21:15:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2165463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/extraterrestrial_fox/pseuds/extraterrestrial_fox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After they sacrificed themselves in the place of their parents, Stiles knew he wouldn't be exactly the same person he was before, that he'd always have a darkness around his heart. But what if the darkness took over completely.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so this is the fist fanfic I have ever written. So I apologise if this is rather crap. Um, yeah. I hope you enjoy and my bad grammar or spelling doesn't upset you too much.. I'm not very good at it ah hah. 
> 
> ANYWAY ENJOY PLEASE. AND IF YOU WANT TO GIVE FEEDBACK. ID REALLY APRECIATE IT AS I HAVE NO ONE TO ACTUALLY DO IT HERE. *i am so sorry I'm going to go and hide now*

 

It was like the calm before the storm. Easy, peaceful. The room itself filled with each other’s friends, relaxing together, their souls slowly curling around one another’s as they laughed, small hearty chuckles escaping their young mouths as they recalled past events enjoyed together. Slowly floating around the loft, mingling with the smell of pizza. Their post-battle release. The calming of each other’s paranoia, slowly caressing it down from their ever-present watchtowers. The healing of everyone’s wounds, mental and psychical. The Alpha’s where gone, the Darach, dead. Everything was calm.

 

But that’s how things are before a hurricane, right? Calm?


	2. The Start

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles has a panic attack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry. I'm still learning how to form things properly. ANYWAY. This is set around the time the first episode of season 3b was. But slightly different and I have no idea what I am doing.

In dark times when you close your eyes it’s a nightmare, sucking you in until you can’t breath anymore. And it’s not dissimilar to a panic attack.

 

Panic attack’s are like a storm and your body’s the sky. They start with a low buzz in your stomach, slowly twisting and turning. Wrapping it’s self around your abdomen before it’s harsh winds curl upwards toward your chest before striking your heart. Your vocal cords, freezing up. Your head spinning as the grey storm clouds approach and your thoughts black out. You never see it closing in. You never see it before it hits you. And by then it’s too late.

 

It was too late for Stiles this time. Currently curled up on the dank floor of a public toilet. Seizing as his body tried to shake out the strength that still lingered within him like an uncontrollable shiver. Hazel eyes shining like whiskey, as the tears glossed over them before dropping rapidly over the bumps of his cheeks and palms that remained glued to the side of his head, grabbing and pulling at the short hair. Breath still raged.

 

If anyone was to ask Stiles later why his face was puffy and complexion so distorted he’d laugh it off and blame it on the fact that the men’s toilets at school stank more and more like a rotten fish everyday. He refused to tell them about his current state. Not because of pride. But because of the voice nagging inside of his head. Scolding him for being so weak, so human. Laughing. It was like a monster, an ever-consuming black hole.

 

He shuddered out a breath into the cold wall of the cubical. The surface cool against the red warmth of his mole ridden cheek. The panic attacks have been constant since that night where he, Scott and Alison died as a replacement for their parents. It’s like his body still hadn’t gotten used to letting air into his lungs properly, so they try to drown him again. Like death wanted him back again. He refused.

 

His chest stilled after a while, heart no longer rattling harshly against his battered rib cage. Stiles’ was numb. Partially blacked out and peaceful..

 

‘’DUDE! DUDE, STILES ARE YOU IN HERE?!’’  Ow. His ears still hurt from the strained pressure as Scott burst into the High schools bathroom. The werewolves’ boot clad feet padded round the outside of the stalls before settling outside of Stiles’.

 

‘’Stiles, man you alright?’ The door gently shook on its weak hinges. As Scott rapped a knuckle against the wood.

 

‘’Yeah..’’ The human sucked in a breath before hauling himself to his feet leaning against the wall for support as he unlocked the door. ‘’Yeah man, I’m great. Just a migraine. I couldn’t’ deal with chemistry. The chemicals make my head worse.’’ It was true in a sense; he wouldn’t have to worry about Scott hearing a lie drum across his chest through his heartbeat.

 

Stiles could see the worry slightly dissipate from his friends face as Scott’s brows ease from their clenched position on his forehead. The werewolf pulled the teen into a one sided hug, grinning as Stiles slapped at his chest gently in a friendly reaction to the gesture as the wolf led them out of the bathroom.

 

‘’Man that’s great an all but you DO know that it’s lacrosse now right? And that coach will be more grouchy than normal if you turn up late. Suicides man, lots of em.’’

 

Stiles shuddered inwardly; running a hand threw his hair, trying to make it regain some of its spike.

 

‘Man, suicides fucking wreck me, not everyone is supernaturally endowed’’

 

Scott laughed small creases pressing against the corners of his eyes. ‘’Not everyone on the team is of the supernatural and they _still_ have a better time with them then you do, Stiles.’’

 

_It’s because you’re weak. Even by **human** standards. Really it’s a surprise that you are still considered pack. Don’t wild animals normally **kill** the weak?_

Stiles flinched at the thought. It was true, and to be honest, he was surprised. Especially after what happened in the hospital. Racing in with a wooden baseball bat, without much thought other than ‘‘protect’’, to hit a twinned super alpha around the head. If he hadn’t of done that they might have been able to get out quicker. Maybe then Derek wouldn’t of ended up unconscious on the floor and Scott’s Mum wouldn’t have been caught by Deculion. Even if that thought and feeling was completely irrational, some part of Stiles still believed it. The part that said, that they would be better off without him, that he would end up putting them all in harms way if they ever had to protect him. And that part wouldn’t go away.

 

At least Derek had left.

 

One less person he cares about, out of the danger zone.

 

Stiles sighed, he had been so scared when he saw Derek lying sprawled across the lift floor; breathing quiet, eyes shut. He couldn’t of lost him as well. Scott had left, his dad had been taken, the thought of Derek being wrenched away from him pulled at his chest. At the time a silent unknown feeling had spread across his ribcage, as he punched the (at the time) Alpha in the face trying to shake him awake. The honey eyed teen missed the ex-Alpha more than he cared to admit. And it annoyed him.

‘’Stiles man, are you sure you are okay? You’re looking paler than normal’’ It was the soft whine in Scott’s throat that shook Stiles from this mind. Scott who had lead him towards the locker rooms, was currently staring intently at Stiles’ face, worry lines toying on his face.

 

Stiles barked out a laugh and shook his head, rubbing little circles into his palms. He wasn’t okay. He won’t be okay again, Stiles knows this. But he also knows that Allison and his best friend would also be going through similar situations, it made him feel guilty of acting like a drama queen about it all, even if it was all going on in his head. That still didn’t stop him from feeling like he was going to faint any moment. But lacrosse was lacrosse, and he was determined to be good at something again.

 

‘’Scott, Christ, how many times do I have to say I’m fine, till you _actually_ believe me?’’ He sat on the bench in front of his locker, slouching forward slightly as his breath got heavier; his head was spinning, the locker room light became over exposed, burning into his eyes. 

 

  _Because he doesn’t trust you to be strong, Stiles._

_The pack dosen’t trust you._

_And they shouldn’t._

 

 Laughter sprang out through out his head, echoing, bouncing around inside his skull like a ricocheted bullet and it **_hurt_**.

Stiles didn’t feel the floor as he collided against it. He didn’t feel Scott shake him, not Coaches shouts for a medic and to give the teen some air. Everything was a slightly out of focused blur of the locker room, he could see his fellow team mates scurry about around him, Scott kneeling beside him. Stiles whiskey eyes glazed as his head lolled to the side, resting against his shoulder.

 

_They will never trust you, Stiles. We will make sure of that_

That was when he saw it, the blacked out silhouette of a person slinking towards him from the back of the locker room. It’s fingers slowly lengthening twirling as it approached, the tips of them like smoke burning through it’s nails. It continued to laugh as it got closer.

 

The sneered smirk that sat in the depths of the blacked out face was the last thing he saw before his vision blackened completely.

_-_

 

 

 

 


End file.
